


The Christmas Guest

by cmere



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Humor, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, M/M, Slow Burn, Smut, You get the idea, arguing over Christmas movies, but it's pretty easy to skip if you're not into that, chopping down christmas trees, cookie baking, snow in texas, totally indulgent christmas fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmere/pseuds/cmere
Summary: Alex is looking forward to a relaxing winter break catching up with his sister after her semester abroad, but June's gone and ruined everything by inviting her insufferable international student friend to stay with their family for a real American Christmas experience. Henry is irritatingly gorgeous with a completely obnoxious superiority complex, and Alex is prepared to hate every single second he's forced to spend in his presence. As Alex starts to get into the Christmas spirit, however, he finds that maybe there's more to Henry than meets the eye - and maybe, just maybe, this will actually be the best Christmas ever.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 595
Kudos: 352
Collections: The Firstprince Secret Snowflake Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrefectMoony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrefectMoony/gifts).



> A gift for my charming and infuriating co-mod, [Len](https://lupinmoons.tumblr.com/), in lieu of participating in the [RWRB: A Gray Area](https://discord.gg/25DZeU9) discord server's Secret Snowflake exchange. I was not actually planning to follow through on writing this after I got the idea, but Len pretty much harassed me until I agreed, so blame her!
> 
> It's about 17k words total and I'm updating a shortie chapter daily through Christmas Day. Happy holidays to all of you, but most of all, happy almost end of 2020! We're gonna make it!
> 
> Endless thanks to [shes_gone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shes_gone/pseuds/shes_gone) for the beta! <3

_Friend of mine needs a ride to Austin for break_  
_I can pretend to ask if you want but you're taking him..._  
_His name's Henry and he's in McMurtry_  
_I'll forward his contact details so you can arrange a departure time_  
_Can't wait to see you after my looong semester away in Scotland!_ 😘

The messages arrive unceremoniously at 4 A.M., when Alex is awake in bed drinking stale coffee directly from the pot and feverishly working on the final paper for his Gender and Politics class, his last assignment of the semester. He finishes and turns it in just in time for the 9 A.M. deadline, immediately crashes, and wakes up four hours later with a pillow covered in drool and a severe crick in his neck.

There hadn't been room in his brain for June's messages to occupy, so when he sees a message from an unknown number, he has trouble fully comprehending what's going on. He reads it no fewer than five times before switching back to his inbox and seeing that June had, in fact, given him a heads up about it.

_Hi Alex! June gave me your mobile number. She said you agreed to drive me to Austin...thank you so much. I'm flexible on when we depart. Just completed my last exam. Let me know what's best for you. Again, thanks! -Henry_

The stiffness in Alex's neck begins to radiate up into a newly developing headache. The last thing he wants to do today is make small talk with one of June's no doubt annoying English major friends the entire three hour drive home, but apparently the deed is already done.

_can you be ready at 5?_  
_i'll pick you up_  
_mcmurtry right_

Which is how, a few short hours later, Alex finds himself idling his Jeep and glaring up at the practically brand new dormitory, a distinct pounding sensation pulsating through his right eye. The inevitable combination of intense finals stress and lack of sleep has made driving away from campus with a migraine a familiar, if unwelcome, experience.

A knock on the passenger door startles Alex out of his rageful reverie. "Alex?"

The voice is a rich baritone with a posh British accent and belongs to one of the most objectively beautiful men Alex has ever seen. The sun, just breaking out from behind a cloud, is literally shining down on the smooth and angular lines of his jaw as a light breeze sweeps his effortlessly messy blonde hair back from his forehead. The azure color of his eyes perfectly matches the bright sky, made all the more noticeable by his deep blue button down. His smile is slightly crooked in an unsure but adorable way, full of straight white teeth.

Alex narrows his eyes. How the _fuck_ is this man a real person? Not just a person, but another student at Rice? He looks like he should be in some expensive watch ad in Vogue, setting women's panties on fire with his smoldering gaze. This better not be some _hilarious_ experiment—or, knowing June, a bet—of June and Nora's to get Alex to commit to a sexuality. He's perfectly fine with being probably sort of bicuriously heteroflexible, and it's not going to fucking _work_ to shove this insufferably British, devastatingly gorgeous specimen of manliness in front of his face for a three hour drive, especially when his eye socket is literally being assaulted by an electric screwdriver.

"Henry," Alex says as politely as he can muster. "Right?"

"Yes, that's me." Henry stands awkwardly with his duffel bag over his shoulder, like he's not sure what to do. Alex gestures impatiently to the backseat.

"Well, throw your bag in the back and get in, let's go," Alex huffs. Henry jumps into motion, and soon they're speeding away from campus and merging onto Highway 290 towards Austin.

"Thanks so much for driving me," Henry yells tentatively once they're on the road. The pounding in Alex's eye intensifies. How does this jackalope manage to sound _tentative_ while _yelling?_

"It's fine," Alex says. "It's not like I wasn't heading there anyway."

"Are you a second year?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm a third year. International student from England."

"I couldn't tell by the accent," Alex says dryly, cutting his eyes over. Henry's cheeks appear pink.

"What college are you in?" Henry asks.

"Lovett."

"Oh, that's the one that looks like—"

"A toaster, yeah."

"I was going to say a prison," Henry says with a laugh. Alex looks over at him again, unable to keep the withering scowl off his face. Of course the guy is beautiful _and_ a complete ass. Couldn't even make it five minutes without rubbing it in Alex's face that he and his shiny fucking smile are in one of the newest dorms on campus, complete with a fucking _roof terrace_ to party on, while Alex wastes away in a literal riot-proof monstrosity of brutalist architecture.

_Dick._

"Yeah, they try to make sure all the Mexicans are locked up right from the start," Alex says as sarcastically as possible. He keeps his eyes on the road but sees Henry freeze out of the corner of his eye.

"I didn't mean—"

"Yeah, whatever."

Henry clears his throat. The ride continues in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of wind whipping over the open Jeep top. Alex hadn't even turned music on because of his headache, but he’s starting to regret it. Anything would sound better than this guy right now.

After a while, Henry tries again. "Y'know, the Rice model of residential colleges within a university is actually modeled after Oxford and Cambridge. My mum's a professor at Oxford, so hearing that is one of the things that convinced her to let me come study here."

Alex's patience is running very thin. Everything about Henry screams superiority complex, from his expensive-looking clothes to his fancy-smelling cologne to every single word that comes out of his fucking mouth. Thank God the ride isn't too long, Alex thinks, and when they get to Austin, they can part ways for the rest of break. For-fucking-ever, if Alex has anything to say about it. Rice is a small campus, but Alex will do whatever he can to avoid running into Henry again.

Alex doesn't respond. Henry seems to take the hint and the rest of the ride passes in relative silence, save for Alex informing Henry of a quick bathroom and Whataburger break. When they're about twenty minutes out, Alex glances over to find him staring out the dark window expressionlessly. The night is pitch black already, an array of lights dancing over his face from passing cars.

"Where are you headed in Austin? We'll be there soon."

Henry's head whips over to him. "I'm—didn't June tell you?"

"Where you're getting dropped off? No."

"I'm…" Henry sounds like he's forcing the words out. "I'm staying with your family for break. June invited me. So I can experience a real American Christmas and all that."

Alex's stomach bottoms out. "Oh. She definitely did not mention that." 

"Yeah. She said...she said you'd keep me entertained until she gets home from Scotland tomorrow." 

Alex swallows.

So much for never seeing Henry again. Apparently he’s Alex’s personal responsibility for the next twenty-four hours, and they’re going to be living in the same house for the next four fucking weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeeeeeee thanks so much y'all for the warm reception!!!! It's an absolute delight to hear from each and every one of you! <3 Hope you enjoy today's chapter :D

“Baby! You made it!”

Alex’s mom, Ellen, instantly sweeps him into an enormous hug, and he feels his muscles untense just slightly in her arms. He loves being home and the rare bits of family time they get to spend together. As a congresswoman, Ellen's away in D.C. half the time, and now with Alex and June at school, the Venn diagram of times that they overlap at home is getting smaller and smaller.

Ellen pulls back and looks at him, her eyes softening. "Migraine?"

"It's fine, Mom. Did you know June's friend was coming to stay with us for break?" Alex gestures vaguely towards Henry, who's hovering in the doorway and managing to look impressively awkward for someone so absurdly good-looking.

"Henry! Oh, we're so happy to have you joining us! June's told me all about you. She's so excited to see you." Ellen drops Alex and goes to throw her arms around Henry. Alex stifles a laugh at how stiffly Henry returns the hug.

"Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Claremont. Congresswoman Claremont? I apologize, I don't know what's appropriate—"

"Christ on a cracker, honey, at home I'm just Mom. Or Ellen. Whatever you prefer." Ellen beams up at him, and Henry seems to relax a little.

"Thank you. Ellen. I'm very much looking forward to experiencing an American Christmas." Henry smiles back.

"A Chicano Texan Christmas," Alex corrects him. 

"That's right," Ellen chirps, grinning back and forth between them. "Alex, sweetheart, would you mind showing Henry around the house and getting him settled? I'm afraid I've got a call with Barack in a few minutes. Leo's at his bowling league but he'll be back later. You boys just make yourselves comfortable and get something to eat. Leo went way overboard preparing for everyone to get home so there's a boatload of snacks." Ellen's still talking as she backs her way down the hallway towards the office. "First priority when June gets home is for you to go get us a tree and that'll get us in the Christmas spirit! Henry, please, make yourself at home, dig around in cabinets for whatever you need or just ask!"

Ellen finally disappears from view. Henry looks at Alex, trying and failing to suppress a small laugh. "Quite the warm welcome."

"That's just how she is." 

"Was she referring to Barack...Obama?"

"Yeah, he's trying to talk her into running for president," Alex says, grabbing his bag again and gesturing through the living room. "Come on. I'll show you the guest room and then we can get some food."

Alex takes Henry down the hallway, pointing out his and June's rooms across from each other, then the bathroom and guest room at the end of the hall. Henry goes to drop his duffel on the bed while Alex stands in the doorway, massaging the part of his neck that always feels like it's directly connected to his headache. Henry glances back over at him, then away.

"I'm sorry. For earlier, and trying to make conversation when you have a migraine and for just generally being an idiot. You don't have to babysit me. I'll just go to bed."

"Dude, don't be stupid. It's 8:30. You're not going to bed."

"Well, you can go to bed if you need to for your headache, and I'll be perfectly fine. Really."

Alex sighs, pressing harder into his neck. "It's not a big deal. I was just going to get something to eat and watch TV. You don't have to hide in here. And arguing with me about it is only going to make the headache worse," Alex adds when it looks like Henry's about to protest again.

Henry laughs, hesitates a second, and then crosses the room back to Alex. "All right."

Alex gives him a quick tour of the rest of the house. They end up on the couch surrounded by Takis, kolaches, roasted pecans, and chips and salsa, with Great British Bake Off playing on the TV. Alex can't stop rubbing his neck; it's the only thing that's stopping his head from exploding.

They're halfway through the technical bake when Henry speaks again. "Listen, my mum gets migraines, really bad ones. And she always does the same thing you're doing, rubbing that one spot in your neck, and it always helps her a lot if she lets me do it for her. Strong hands from years of piano playing and all. So if you'll let me make it up to you, I can take over and you can just relax."

"You don't have to do that," Alex says defensively, his heart suddenly palpitating at the thought of Henry's hands on his neck and shoulders.

"I know I don't have to, but I owe you one for the ride, and I swear I'm really good." Henry grins at him; Alex refrains from rolling his eyes. "Oh, go on. If it's terrible, you can tell me to bugger off."

Alex sighs dramatically, then slowly rearranges himself to put his back within reach of Henry. Henry's hands land on his shoulders, thumbs digging in.

"Where's the spot?" Henry says, suddenly close behind him, so close Alex can feel the puffs of air on his neck. He brings his hand up and presses in until he feels Henry's fingers covering his, then drops it back to his lap. Henry concentrates on that tense knot, somehow providing the perfect amount of firm pressure, and Alex resists the urge to melt into a puddle in his lap. "Is that good?"

"Yeah," Alex says, his voice coming out low and weirdly rough. It's _really_ good, actually, but he doesn't need to get overly complimentary or anything. Henry keeps up the steady pressure there, but adds in a slow massage with his other hand, fingers dancing across Alex's shoulders, his back, up his neck, gripping the base of his skull and kneading. A quiet moan escapes Alex's mouth, after which he blinks rapidly. Where the fuck did that come from?

He hears Henry chuckle quietly behind him, maintaining his relentless massaging, taking all of Alex's finals stress and slowly and methodically working it out of his body. Alex's eyes droop closed. He has no idea how long they stay like that, Henry's magical hands rubbing him and rubbing him. 

"Alex?"

Alex hears the voice distantly, then realizes with a start that he's leaned half against the couch and half against Henry's shoulder, apparently having dozed off.

"What are you two up to?" Leo says, a knowing smile on his face as he toes off his shoes by the door.

"I just—migraine—and Henry was—Leo, this is Henry, June's friend," Alex babbles, caught completely off guard and only barely aware of what's even going on.

"Great to meet you," Henry says, jumping up to shake his hand. Alex pretends not to notice the chill he suddenly experiences at the absence of Henry's body heat behind him.

"Welcome, Henry. We're positively chuffed to have you join us. I studied abroad in London," Leo adds at Henry's surprised expression, his eyes twinkling.

"Nice to hear a Britishism around these parts," Henry says, grinning back. 

Alex is still trying to catch up. Did he fall asleep on Henry? Because that would be really embarrassing— 

"Alex, did you take your migraine pill? You should go to bed," Leo says.

"Yeah," Alex says. "I mean, no. But yeah, I should take it and go to bed." He reaches for the bags of snacks, but Leo _tsks_ at him.

"Henry and I can clean up. You head off."

"Are you sure?" Alex says, looking at Henry when he says it.

"Absolutely. Sleep well, Alex," Henry says with a soft smile.

"Feel better," Leo adds. Alex pushes himself up off the couch and down the hallway, wondering the whole time what the hell just happened.

—

Alex wakes up to the sensation of an entire body landing on top of him and an unmistakable shriek in his ear.

"Alex!" It's June—but that's impossible.

"What—how—why—" Alex's eyes cut up to the door, where he sees—of course—fucking Henry standing there, grinning, hands in his pockets. Alex prides himself on being an excellent speaker, so the fact that this random jerk-off has seen him stumbling all over himself to find words after being suddenly woken up twice in as many days is fucking unacceptable. He clears his throat and shoves June off him, sitting up and ruffling his hair. "Your flight doesn't get in until tonight." 

"I changed it to an earlier one to surprise everyone! Are you surprised?"

"Yeah, I'm fucking bamboozled," Alex says, rolling his eyes, then reaches out to pull her into a hug. "Welcome home, snot rocket."

"Thanks," June says, grinning. "I'm totally exhausted and I miss Edinborough already, but at least I have you and Henry to keep my mind off of everything!"

"By everything, do you mean your hot Scottish boy toy?" Alex snarks tiredly.

"Lochlan was not my boy toy. We were friends with benefits and there were zero feelings involved and neither of us cried when we said goodbye at the airport at all."

"Sure," Henry chimes in. "And he certainly didn't sneak a romantic note into your luggage letting you know that he'll never forget you and your wild American streak and the way you made him feel when you snuck into his flat in the middle of the night and—"

Alex is snickering, eyes wide with delight.

"That's enough!" June interrupts. "Henry, don't make me stuff one of Alex's dirty socks in your mouth."

"Kinky," Alex says, raising his eyebrows and looking back and forth between them. They'd make a good-looking couple, he decides. "Hey, what time is it?" 

"Seven."

"In the morning?"

"Yeah, I'm totally exhausted and about to crash." June's smirk is insufferable.

"Why the _fuck_ did you wake me up?"

"Because I couldn't wait another second to see my baby brother!" June croons, pinching his cheeks. Alex ducks to get away from her.

"Alex, how's your head?" Henry asks. Now June's the one looking back and forth between them.

"It's all good. I wouldn't mind getting a few more hours sleep, though," he says, turning to glare at her.

"Okay, okay, let's go to sleep, reconvene at noon for lunch. And then Mom wants us to go get the tree."

"Fine," Alex says, flopping back down in his bed. He can feel the weight of Henry's gaze on him, but he just closes his eyes. "Welcome home. Now get the fuck out of my room."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy today's update! :D <3

"You know we're going to cut down a tree, right? Like, ourselves?" Alex doesn't even try to keep the disdain from dripping out of his voice. Henry's wearing a pristine yellow button-down shirt, pressed khakis, and what must be leather shoes. They're shiny. Shiny fucking leather shoes, to go to a goddamn tree farm. What is _wrong_ with this guy?

"I...am I dressed inappropriately?" Henry says, pure confusion on his face as he gestures down at his outfit. The pale yellow of the shirt makes his eyes stand out even more, bright and blue as the Texas sky around the sun. It's disgusting.

"I mean, if those are the clothes you want to get covered in sap and sweat and tree debris, go for it. It's a free country, I guess. If you're white, which..." Alex makes a show of looking him exaggeratedly up and down.

June appears at the entryway. "Alex, don't be a dick—oh." June eyes Henry with a slight grimace.

"See?" Alex smirks.

"Sweetie, you should probably change into something a little more...casual." June gestures at her own leggings and sweatshirt combo. "Something you don't mind getting a little dirty. And, like, tennis shoes."

"I don't own tennis shoes," Henry says, because of course he doesn't. His cheeks are definitely turning pink. Alex soaks up the sweet vindication.

"Do you have any other shoes besides...those?" June says.

"Erm. No. Only back at uni."

"What size shoe do you wear?"

"I'm a twelve, but I suppose I'm not entirely sure if it's the same sizing here. I've only brought shoes from home."

Alex is dangerously close to yelling _this is America, dumbass_ before exerting significant effort to stop himself from sounding like the worst kind of Republican.

"Do you want to see if my shoes will fit?" he says instead.

"Yes. Thank you," Henry says, relief plain on his face.

Fifteen minutes later, Henry is wearing jeans, one of Alex's high school lacrosse practice t-shirts, and Leo's lawn mowing shoes, and they're ready to go.

"Have fun, darlings," Ellen says, exiting her study to see them off at the door with a smile. "Get us a good one."

It's a half hour drive to Evergreen Farms in Elgin; June puts on her Christmas mix and they blast it all the way there, singing at the top of their lungs. Alex is pleased to note that Henry joins in, even if he's obviously trying to keep his voice quieter than the rest of them. When Mariah Carey comes on, Alex screams. "Shut the fuck up, this is my shit!"

He catches Henry's eye in the rearview mirror; Henry's smile is taking over his whole face.

"What is the purpose of cutting down your own tree?" Henry says in wonder as they pull up to Evergreen Farms and hop out of the car.

"It's, like, an experience," June explains. "A whole Christmassy experience." She turns to the attendant to get a saw.

"Yeah, it's like this formative American Christmas experience. We always used to go do it as a family when we were kids and like, listen to Christmas carols and pet the animals and ride the wagon and drink hot cocoa. Once we went to college, Mom said she wanted to give up on all the effort of getting a real tree and buy a fake one, but we said hell, no. So now it's just our job to go get one. And I guess yours, too," Alex says, smirking.

"Please show me this formative American Christmas experience," Henry says, grinning back.

"Sweetheart, I'm putting you to work."

Once they get out to the field of trees, they spread out, running up and down the long lines of them, looking for the perfect one. June starts an impromptu game of Marco Polo, hiding behind trees and trying to get them to catch her. Alex hears her call, "Marco!" and then the shuffle of feet, and he swoops around the corner of a tree only to run straight into Henry's chest.

"Oh—I—oh dear—" Henry stammers. A flush is spreading all the way up to his ears.

"Jesus," Alex says, slightly dazed from the wall of muscle he just encountered. Henry is apparently very solid. "Watch where you're going!"

"Terribly sorry," Henry says, his eyes huge and apologetic. June comes around the corner at that moment.

"What the hell are you two doing?" she demands, looking fairly threatening holding a bow saw up in her right hand.

"Head on collision," Alex says, glaring at Henry. His entire front feels warm from where it ran up against him.

"Well, come on. I think I found our tree."

June leads them back to where she came from and gestures to a magnificent, full, bushy cypress. Alex circles it for inspection, ensuring there's no weird empty areas, making a big show of measuring the height. After a minute, he nods.

"This is it."

"Henry?" June asks. "We need unanimous agreement."

"It's beautiful," Henry says with a small smile. "What do we do now?"

"We cut it down, dumbass," Alex says, grabbing the saw out of June's hand.

"We literally cut it down ourselves? That wasn't just a euphemism for...for finding a staff person to come remove it for us?"

Alex rolls his eyes. "I'll get it started for you, but you're not getting out of this." 

Before long, Alex is sawing away, long, repetitive strokes against the trunk. After a couple of minutes, he glances back to see Henry unabashedly watching him, cheeks rosy, only to quickly turn his head away when Alex looks. Is he _sweating?_

"Windsor. Get over here. It's your turn."

"I—" Henry looks comically terrified. "I've never sawed a thing in my life. What about June?"

"This is one arena where I'm happy to gracefully allow the men to do the heavy lifting and get their kicks feeling like, you know, big strong manly men. Or whatever." June examines her nails.

"I'll show you," Alex cuts in. "But you're gonna have to get a little closer. Come on, you said you wanted the American experience."

"I—oh—all right," Henry says, approaching with a grimace, as though Alex asked him to lick sap from the trunk instead. "Just...no judgment, please. It's my first time."

Alex snorts. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll be gentle."

Henry coughs, avoiding Alex's eyes as he carefully takes the saw out of his hands.

"It's not rocket science. I've got it about halfway done. Just saw back and forth and try to get the full length of the saw cutting on every stroke."

Henry tentatively leans over and gives a few pathetic swipes, then sinks onto his knees. His expression is determined, now, concentrating, like he won't let this cypress get the better of him.

"Here, princess," Alex says, taking pity on him. He steps up behind Henry, crouching down and wrapping his arms around Henry's arms, placing his hands on Henry's wrists. Henry's breathing sounds shallower; is he already out of breath from this pathetic attempt? Alex rolls his eyes. "It's not that hard. Just back and forth, back and forth, nice and easy." 

"I think I've got it," Henry squeaks. Alex shrugs and steps back.

"Suit yourself."

Henry does have it, and before long he's expertly sawing the tree. Alex finds he's the one staring, now, as Henry makes quick work of the remaining breadth of the trunk, his forearm muscles shifting as he moves. Alex's t-shirt fits Henry looser but shorter than it does Alex, his shoulders narrower but his torso longer. For some reason, Alex finds himself smiling at the _Claremont-Diaz_ running across Henry's back atop the number ten.

A loud crack indicates that the tree is close to falling.

"June," Alex says, but she's already reaching in to grab the trunk's middle while Alex stretches up for the top. After another thirty seconds of sawing, Henry breaks through, and they gently lower the tree to the ground to ensure none of the branches get smushed.

Henry stands up, looking sweaty and red-faced and utterly pleased with himself.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Not bad at all," Alex says before he can think. He doesn't miss the resulting look on June's face, but he can't exactly figure out what it says.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out today to the fine folks of the [RWRB: A Gray Area discord server](https://discord.gg/25DZeU9) for the Christmas movie discussion that directly fed today's chapter :D Please come join us - it's open to all!
> 
> Thanks everyone for being so lovely and I hope you enjoy the update! <3

"Oh my God, there's a Christmas Prince marathon on!" June's voice is full of unapologetic and gleeful delight. Alex blinks at her.

"No, June. No. Veto. Not again."

"Don't pretend you hate it now just for Henry's sake—"

"I'm not pretending, I am perfectly happy to enjoy a saccharine holiday love story, but—"

"You _cried."_ June appears way too eager to share this fact. Alex chucks a throw pillow at her face.

"Weddings always make me cry. It's like a Pavlovian response."

_"And_ you unironically love the Christmas Prince and its sequels."

"Henry, what Christmas movies do you usually watch?" Alex says loudly, trying to talk over her.

"And she's a _reporter_ which is extremely important for representation of the profession—"

Henry looks caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace. "Oh, erm, I...dunno. I grew up watching the classics with my dad, Frosty the Snowman and Little Drummer Boy and all that, the Charlie Brown Christmas special. So we tend to watch those every year, just for nostalgia's sake."

"Well, that's adorable," Alex says, narrowing his eyes. "Like, annoyingly adorable." 

"Okay, but Elf," June chimes in. Alex cheers; Henry groans, and two dark heads whip around to stare at him.

"You don't honestly like Elf, do you?" Henry says weakly.

"We love Elf," Alex says, glaring. "It's heartwarming and funny and it's fucking _iconic_."

Henry swallows. "It's just...it's so cringe, isn't it? Like, it's just trying to get laughs using all the cringiest techniques possible, and I always get so uncomfortable trying to watch it I have to leave the room before I die of shame."

"I can see your sense of humor is about as refined as I expected," Alex sniffs. June stifles a laugh. "Forget Elf, though. The ultimate best Christmas movie of all time is Die Hard."

"That's not a bloody Christmas movie, is it?" Henry says, indignant. "It's just an action movie."

"Not a Christmas movie?" Alex is appalled. Disgusted. Horrified. "Have you _seen_ it? It's a fucking _classic_."

"I haven't seen it, but I can't imagine how it would count as a Christmas movie, let alone a classic."

"We have this argument every year," June cuts in. "For what it's worth, I'm on your side, Henry. And I'd rather watch the 007 Christmas Special if we're going that route."

"I'd rather not," Henry says.

"Why not? Have you _seen_ Arthur Fox?" Alex says judgmentally.

June scream laughs as Henry drops his face in his hands, practically down to his thighs.

"Yeah, he's seen him, dumbass, that's his fucking dad," June manages to say through her deranged screeching.

"Your dad is Arthur fucking Fox? Isn't your last name Windsor?" Alex's mind whirs as he tries to integrate this new, unexpected knowledge into his brain.

Henry groans faintly. "Technically it's hyphenate, like yours. But we all went by Windsor, which is my mum's name, to draw less attention to ourselves in school."

"Your dad is Arthur Fox?" Alex repeats, staring at him.

"Yes." The corner of Henry's mouth goes pinched, and he's clearly avoiding Alex's gaze.

"Huh," Alex says, tilting his head. "I guess looks do skip a generation."

"Oh, fuck off," Henry says, as June scream laughs some more.

"I'm impressed, didn't know you could swear," Alex says, smirking. "Thought you might spontaneously burst into flame and be swallowed into the depths of hell, or something."

"Didn't know you knew any words over two syllables," Henry responds airily, despite his bright red face. "I'm impressed, too."

"Okay, you assholes," June interrupts right as Alex is about to come up with the most perfect possible retort. He sends her a withering look. "Tis the season, let's be jolly and gay. Are there any Christmas movies we can all agree on?"

"Home Alone," Henry says immediately, just as Alex says, "Harry Potter."

They lock eyes. Alex tries to think of something to argue about, but he does genuinely love Home Alone, and June would absolutely call him on his shit. Henry looks equally trapped, his eyes darting back and forth over Alex's face and his mouth gaping like a goldfish.

"Look at that," June says, spreading her hands out in front of her. "Peace on earth and all that bullshit."

"We always watch all eight Harry Potter movies over Christmas break," Alex says. He means it as a challenge, and he's pleased that Henry responds in kind.

"As do I," Henry says. "I just didn't know if they technically counted as Christmas movies in your uncultured eyes."

"Of course they do," Alex scoffs. "Hagrid bringing the giant tree into the Great Hall? All the twinkly lights and Weasley sweaters and happy Christmases—" Alex adopts a British accent.

"No argument here," Henry says around a laugh, eyes bright. "Shall we start now?"

"No," June says, "because we're watching the Christmas Prince marathon now. Alex, make popcorn."

Alex and Henry groan in unison. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized today is the one year anniversary of the first fic I posted in this fandom and it's made me all nostalgic! It's been so wonderful (dare I say life changing??) to be a part of it and I love and appreciate you all immensely :) <3
> 
> Enjoy today's update! :D <3

"Yeah. No, it's good, it's really good. I just...miss everybody."

Alex is lying on his bed, scrolling through TikTok and minding his own goddamn business, when he hears Henry's voice coming from the guest room next door.

"Some of the traditions are different, of course. I can't imagine I'll be seeing Yorkshire pudding or mince pies. Americans don't even know what pudding is. They think it's those disgusting, overly sugary, prepackaged custards." Henry laughs. "I know, I know. I'll miss Dad's cooking and Mum's terrible singing. My first Christmas away from home."

Quite suddenly, and without his express permission, Alex's heart pangs in his chest. He had been enjoying antagonizing Henry so much that he hadn't really thought about the fact that he was here, away from his family and friends and usual traditions, adapting to a strange new family and a different culture. Alex has never been away for Christmas; he can only imagine how miserable he would feel halfway across the world from home, holed up with a bunch of strangers, doing whatever they wanted to do. He cautiously rolls out of bed, then crosses the room as quietly as possible until he's next to the wall they share.

"Everyone's lovely. June's parents are so welcoming and have made me feel like part of the family already. Well, I think her brother might hate me, but that's neither here nor there. He seems to enjoy starting arguments with me, at least."

Alex blinks, willing Henry not to talk about him but straining his ears to listen at the same time.

"Shut it, Bea. No, seriously, shut it. I have to go. I'll call you later. Leave me alone. I love you, too. Bye, then."

The sound of Henry's heavy footsteps sends Alex leaping back across the room to his bed. He's just stretched himself out over it and adopted a bored expression, flicking through his phone, when Henry walks past his door, doing a double take at seeing Alex there. 

"Oh, hi. I thought everyone was out on the front porch," Henry says uneasily.

"I think everyone else is. I was just…" Alex gestures to his phone. 

Henry runs a hand through his hair. "Oh. Erm. I was just FaceTiming with my sister, Bea, back home. Hope I didn't disturb you."

"You constantly disturb me," Alex says. Henry purses his lips and turns to go, but Alex throws his hands up to stop him. "No, I could hear you were talking, but I couldn't, like, hear anything." Alex feels his face heat up at the lie, which is odd, because normally he thinks of himself as a very smooth liar.

"All right," Henry says, still looking uneasy. "Well, I'll just—" 

"Do you miss your family?" Alex interrupts. Henry eyes him and leans against the door frame.

"Yes. I've never been away for Christmas before. Went home the last two years, but since June invited me, I didn't want to pass up the opportunity. And she was abroad all semester, and I missed her. But it's hard, knowing my whole family is at home together and doing all the things we normally do without me." Henry visibly swallows, looking down. "But you don't care about my rambling, so I'll just—"

"What kinds of Britishy things do you usually do that we don't do here?" Alex props himself up on his elbows. Henry meets his eyes again.

"You really want to know about our traditions?"

"Yeah. I like learning about different cultures and shit."

"And shit." Henry smiles, pausing before speaking again as though he's waiting for Alex to say he's joking. "Well, the food is one thing. We always have a big Christmas lunch with a lot of the usual things, roast turkey and vegetables and all that. But Yorkshire pudding is my favorite part, and no one here has even heard of it. Oh, and Christmas pudding—"

"Why is everything in England called pudding?" Alex interrupts. Henry laughs.

"Well, it's different kinds of puddings, isn't it? We know how to differentiate between them."

"So what the fuck is the Christmas pudding?"

"It's for dessert, sort of like a...fruit cake, I suppose you might call it here. And there's always a coin baked into it and whoever finds the coin in their piece is king or queen for the rest of the day. Oh, and Christmas crackers! Everyone gets a Christmas cracker by their plate, and you pull them open and there's always a little something fun inside, along with a paper crown and a truly terrible joke. We all go round the table and tell our jokes and they're so awful, but we always end up laughing and laughing, and everyone wears their crown for the rest of the meal." 

Henry's becoming more and more animated as he talks, and his entire face is lit up now, from a smile that shows off a tiny dimple in his cheek to his eyes, somehow brighter and bluer and more beautiful than Alex has seen them before. 

"And I know your lot have Christmas stockings as well, but ours are always hanging at the foot of our bed when we wake up in the morning, and even after I knew it was my mum and dad and not, y'know, Father Christmas, it always felt so magical to have this stocking somehow appear overnight with gifts and chocolates and everything. I don't know how they snuck in without ever waking me up, especially since I practically stopped sleeping once I got to A-levels, got terrible insomnia. But they always figured out a way, and the stocking was always there, and I never knew how it got there."

Henry's grin has gone a little bit dopey; Alex realizes he's smiling, too. Henry's enthusiasm for these simple little things is weirdly infectious. 

"Christ, I'm sorry, I'll stop. I don't think I've ever spoken that much in my life. You just...awakened something in me." Henry laughs; Alex laughs weakly along with him.

"No, no, it's fine. I like getting all the information on your traditions so I can mock you ruthlessly for them later, when you're least expecting it."

"Oh, is that what you're doing? Filing it all away to bring out when it'll hurt me the most?" Henry's still grinning.

"Absolutely. Twelve different kinds of pudding that all mean different things? Ridiculous. You'll have a snack pack of chocolate pudding on your plate for Christmas dinner. Actually, not chocolate," Alex amends with an evil smirk. "Vanilla."

Henry's laugh sounds loud and genuine. "Is your goal to get me so irritated with you that I forget all about missing my family?"

"Goddammit, Windsor. You were just supposed to think I was senselessly cruel."

"Nah, I can tell you're one of those secret softie types. Rough exterior but soft as silk on the inside." Henry's eyes glint. 

"I see you think you've got me all figured out." Alex pushes himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and glancing back up.

"I think I'm starting to." Henry licks his lips, eyes locked on Alex.

For no discernable reason, a chill runs down Alex's spine.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there!!! Belatedly realizing perhaps this fic could have used a slow burn tag? ;) 
> 
> Enjoy today's chapter loves!!! <333333333333

"Alex! Wake up! It's Christmas Eve, and we're making cookies!"

Alex is unceremoniously awoken by a loud pounding on his door and June's most obnoxious screeching. He groans, fumbling for his phone. It has to be before noon. Who makes cookies before noon?

"Come on!" More pounding. Alex gives a noncommittal yell back, which seems to satisfy June. Somehow it's already one in the afternoon, and it kind of makes sense when Alex remembers starting the first Harry Potter movie after midnight and going on to watch the second and third with Henry as well, even though June declared she was going to sleep at three.

The sun was definitely up by the time he and Henry had stumbled down the hallway to bed. Alex, stretching and yawning and scratching his stomach under his shirt, pointedly does not think about Henry's soft, sweet smile and soft, sleepy eyes as he bid him goodnight at his bedroom door and made his way down the hall to the guest room. Actually, Alex's stomach had started squirming after that in a weird way that made it hard to fall asleep, so he definitely got, like, four hours of sleep. Maximum. And now June wants to make cookies, and his dad is flying in today, and Henry is still just going to fucking be here, all the time, for the next three weeks.

Alex gives himself a moment to enjoy the peaceful quiet of his bedroom, but his stomach is starting to squirm again when he thinks about his mom insisting that Henry stay in his room instead of June's while his dad takes over the guest room for a couple days. Hopefully he's not getting a stomach flu or some shit.

By the time Alex has pulled on some reasonable enough clothes, brushed his teeth, and dragged himself into the kitchen, his body is desperate for caffeine. He goes straight to the coffeemaker; there's already a full pot on with a mug beside it. Alex greets June and Henry with a grunt, then pours himself a cup and takes a long drag. It only burns his tongue a little.

"This coffee is better than usual. What did you do, Bug?"

"It was Henry, actually," June says indifferently. "He's already picked up on your caffeine addiction, apparently, and went straight to make it for you." Henry smiles shyly at him from across the island.

"O—oh," Alex says, looking down at his socked feet, suddenly feeling kind of underdressed in track pants and the t-shirt he slept in. He tries to discreetly sniff himself and realizes he failed to put on deodorant. He immediately vows to himself not to get too close to anyone while they're baking.

"Sleep well?" Henry says brightly, looking chipper as a fucking chipmunk. Alex glowers at him.

"Like Sleeping fucking Beauty," Alex grumbles. 

"Oh my God," June interjects. "It's snowing!"

_"What?"_

The three of them crowd up together at the sliding glass door to the backyard, looking in perplexed wonder at the snow falling gently outside. Alex belatedly realizes he's already failed at his attempts not to get close to anyone; he's pressed up against Henry's arm, with June on Henry's other side. 

"It's not supposed to snow here, is it?" Henry asks, looking bewildered but delighted, his eyes big and round, his smile enormous.

"No," Alex says emphatically. "Like we even need it, but this is just more evidence that fucking climate change is wreaking havoc on the world. The natural disasters, the extremes in temperatures, the weather you're never supposed to see in fucking _Texas_. Snow in Texas! It's everything that's wrong with the world today."

"I think it's pretty," June says. Alex shoots a glare at her, which she returns with a sweet smile. She goes on in the same casual tone, "Henry, didn't you go on a Tinder date with a climate change denier?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Henry says quickly. Alex looks up at him to see his cheeks flaring red.

"Are you serious?" Alex scoffs.

"It was nothing!" Henry insists, rubbing a hand over his face. June snorts. "I faked sick as soon as I found out and I never saw him again. I swear, he kept trying to text me and I blocked his number and everything."

Alex feels a jolt at Henry's use of pronoun. He had...wondered how Henry identified, and for some reason, having it confirmed that Henry dates men makes him feel...weird. Not, like, _weird_. Just kind of flushed and his stomach is squirming again and he's probably a little bit hungover or just didn't get enough sleep or else he's maybe actually getting the actual fucking flu.

"You fucking liar," June hoots, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You said you still finished your drink because you were seriously considering pretending it never happened and hooking up with him anyway because he was so hot! What was his name? Oliver?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" Henry moans. "Can we please get on to the biscuits? Cookies? Whatever you want to call them?"

"You almost hooked up with a _climate change denier?"_ Alex doesn't even try to keep the disgust out of his voice. His hands ball into fists at his sides.

"Look, it's hard to be a gay man in Texas," Henry says, his voice shrinking. "Nobody warns you when you're applying to study abroad that there are gay climate change deniers in America. Who could have even imagined such a thing?" He ends on, essentially, a squeak. Alex and June lock eyes, then burst out laughing.

"All right, all right, we can save the torture session for when we have a little more alcohol in us," June says, making her way over to the island where all the cookie ingredients are laid out. 

Alex trails after her. "Can that be now?"

"I don't think—"

"Please," Henry interrupts, and Alex looks over at him, grinning.

Cookie baking is a lazy affair as they slowly get tipsier on mimosas throughout the afternoon. Henry makes an irritatingly big deal about how sweet American baked goods are until June and Alex pile on him that he doesn't have any idea what he's missing out on, and they don't want his shitty stale British biscuits anyway, and after a brief argument, Henry concedes with his hands raised in defeat. June orders them both around, barking at Henry to mix the dry ingredients and Alex to start on the frosting. Alex is weirdly pleased to note that Henry seems as content to do her bidding as he is. 

At one point, he's standing perpendicular to Henry at the island, and when Henry's not expecting it, he reaches in the container and flicks a bit of flour at him. It lands on the apple of his cheek, brushed white on pink. Henry bursts into surprised laughter, like he can't believe Alex had the audacity, then sticks his finger in the bowl of white frosting and drags it across Alex's face. Alex tries to dodge him, but all it does is make Henry's finger land on his mouth and smear down his chin. Alex licks his lips; Henry's eyes go wide. He reaches up to clear the frosting off with his thumb and sucks on it, and Henry's eyes go wider still. Alex pretends not to notice and tries not to smile. 

Something ignites in the pit of his stomach, though, at the way Henry's watching him, the way Henry has been watching him, really, this whole time. Not just this afternoon, but the entire visit—since the minute he tapped on Alex's car in Houston, honestly. His deep blue eyes are intense in a way that Alex has never experienced, and it seems like they change based on the color of shirt Henry is wearing and the weather, so Alex is always peering up at him, trying to determine the exact shade they're going on take on, whether they're a little more faded and gray like a winter cloud, or tinged green, the same turquoise as the gulf. They're pure blue today, matching exactly the shade of Henry's cozy cotton t-shirt, and it's only then that Alex realizes they've been looking at each other with soft smiles on their faces for maybe a minute too long. When he tears his gaze away to look over at June, she's just standing there with her eyebrows raised so far they're almost lost in her hairline.

"Can someone set the timer for eight minutes?" Alex says, grabbing the tray of cookies in front of him, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. He can still feel Henry's eyes trained on him, and it takes everything in his power not to return his gaze.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay, I added the slow burn tag! Hope you all are doing wonderfully, enjoy today's update! <3

Alex's dad Oscar arrives in a flurry of activity and arguing later that afternoon, because nothing can ever happen between his parents without an excessive amount of gesticulating and raised voices and random Latin terms that only lawyers know how to use. After Oscar spends twenty minutes insisting he can sleep on the couch, Ellen unceremoniously ejects Henry from the guest room, throwing an air mattress strapped up with bungee cords at Alex and telling him to blow it up on the floor of his bedroom, because Oscar will be taking the guest room for the next two nights while he's in town.

Alex sighs. It's not that he didn't know this was coming, but he had kind of hoped his dad was going to talk her into letting him sleep on the couch.

Henry also tries to insist he'll be fine in the living room, but Ellen won't hear it, and she shoves them both down the hallway to move Henry's luggage and set up his bed.

"Sorry," Alex yells over the whine of the air mattress inflator. "My parents are technically Catholic, so like. No sharing rooms with different genders or whatever."

"Right. Because June's virtue is in such danger with me." It startles a real laugh out of Alex. Sometimes Henry's so dry he could snap him like a brittle branch. 

"Well, please keep my virtue intact. I've been saving it for Jesus," Alex tells him with a grin. Henry coughs, then nods.

"Noted."

After they've resettled, Ellen packs everyone up in the SUV and they head to Alex's grandparents' little house in East Austin.

"So maybe someone can explain what I'm getting myself into here?" Henry's saying from the back seat next to June. "All I've heard is something about singing and pozole, and I'm not sure what that even means."

"Las Posadas is a Mexican tradition that our grandparents always do a kind of modified version of," June explains. "Back in la patria, for the nine nights before Christmas, every night they would do a candlelit procession from house to house singing these traditional songs asking to be let in, and it's supposed to represent Mary and Joseph seeking shelter and getting turned away, until finally someone lets you in for a big party. On the last night, Nochebuena, it's the biggest celebration of all, and then everyone goes to midnight mass together. We always go around with my grandparents' to their neighbors' houses singing, just for Christmas Eve, then end up back at their place for the celebration with pozole and tamales and a piñata and everything."

"I've never heard of that before," Henry says. 

"Yeah, well, we can't all be culturally savvy," Alex snarks from the middle seat, twisting his head back. Henry shoots him a glare.

"I won't know any of the songs or how to say anything and have I mentioned I'm a terrible singer?" Henry says, sounding a little nervous.

"Don't worry, mijo," Oscar says, holding up a few sheets of paper. "These buffoons can never remember them either. We've got all the lyrics here. It's more about the party after and being together, anyway. Mami and Papi insist."

“If I can do it, you can do it, sugar,” Ellen assures him.

"Thank you for including me," Henry says. 

“Remember the first year you came?” Oscar says to Ellen in a voice full of mischief.

“Lord almighty, how could I forget? It was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life.”

“What happened?” Alex asks eagerly. Ellen smiles into the rearview mirror.

“I was trying to impress the neighbors with my Spanish skills,” she says, laughing a little, “and as we were walking to the next house, Juan and Maite asked how I was doing, and I said, ‘estoy embarazada.’” 

The entire car erupts into laughter, save for Henry; Alex twists around to enjoy the bewilderment on his face, but June’s already explaining, “Embarazada means pregnant.” Alex watches him throw his head back and laugh, wide and open-mouthed, and can’t help the grin that takes over his own face.

“Of course, I had no idea what I said,” Ellen continues, “so the chisme started up immediately, and by the time we got to Oscar’s parents’, they had already heard that their son knocked up his new girlfriend out of wedlock and sat us right down for a lecture on how we needed to get married immediately and blah, blah, blah.”

“It was a merry mix-up,” Oscar says cheerfully, “but we figured it all out soon enough.”

“I’ll try to avoid that one,” Henry says, still smiling.

They park at the abuelos' house and gather with the neighbors. At the first house, the lyrics get passed around and they quickly discover Oscar didn't make enough copies; Alex ends up sharing with Henry. It's dark and the font is tiny and Henry huddles in close to him, their shoulders nudging up together side by side. It's colder than usual, the snow still falling lightly, collecting on Henry's shoulders and in his hair.

_En el nombre del cielo. Os pido posada, pues no puede andar – mi esposa amada.  
Aquí no es mesón, sigan adelante. Yo no debo abrir, no vaya ser un tunante. _

Henry wasn't lying; he's a terrible singer, and his pronunciation is atrocious. But he tries, and Alex is having a hard time keeping his lips from twitching up as he listens to the whitest of white colonizers trying to sing in Spanish from up close while surrounded by a bunch of Mexicans. It's actually pretty great. He wonders if this is how his dad felt when his mom started coming along for las Posadas.

After the song is finished, the neighbor shoes them away, denying them shelter. Henry looks at Alex with a self-conscious smile and leans back in, close to his ear.

"This is humiliating," Henry whispers.

"Don't sweat it," Alex says, grinning. "There's nothing the abuelos love more than seeing a white kid making a fool out of himself."

"Oh, delighted to be of service," Henry says, the corners of his mouth turning up even further.

The procession is loud, the sound of neighborly chatter and laughter overtaking the solemn nature of the tradition. They make their way to several different houses, singing, before they're finally allowed to enter Alex's grandparents’. Henry actually sounds pretty good by the end of it.

Rapid-fire Spanish fills the warm house; wine is poured and soup is served. Henry sticks close to Alex and June, clearly out of his element, but he gamely attempts conversation with anyone who approaches them from the extended network of family and neighbors present. June tries to interpret for him, but soon gives up with a frustrated, "Ugh, Alex, you're better at translating than me, can you do it?" and walks off to gossip with Abuela about all the cousins. Alex thinks he should be more annoyed that half his night ends up dedicated to helping Henry communicate with everyone, but surprisingly, he doesn't really mind. He actually kind of gets used to Henry's steady presence at his side, the warmth of their arms pressed up together, and he definitely enjoys making fun of him as he tries to eat tamales for the first time.

"I think I'll just stick with the soup," Henry says, red-cheeked, poking confusedly at the corn husk.

"You're just gonna fucking give up like that? Jesus Christ, you're pathetic," Alex goads him, but then he shows him how to peel the husk back to get to the filling, how to smother it all in salsa and dive in, and something warm and bubbly seeps through him as Henry raves about how good it is.

“You have some salsa verde on your cheek,” Alex tells him when he’s done.

“Oh, where? Did I get it?” Henry says, wiping the entirely wrong side of his face.

“Here,” Alex says, taking pity on him, and reaches up to swipe at it with his finger. He licks it off with a grin. Henry is looking at him with a weirdly soft expression that Alex doesn't really know how to read. 

All in all, Alex always loves las Posadas, and this night is no different. They're there past midnight, all good intentions of going to mass long forgotten with the wine and the company, piling into the SUV again after an extensive goodbye. This time, Alex and Henry end up in the backseat together. 

"This is cool," Henry says quietly, just to him. Leo is blasting Christmas music from the passenger seat. "That your family still does all these traditions together, even though your parents are divorced."

"Yeah. They try. Even though it inevitably ends up in at least one screaming fight per day."

Henry's looking at him; Alex can feel it. He resolutely does not look back, nor does he squirm under the intensity of Henry's gaze. 

"Thanks for helping me tonight," Henry murmurs after a minute. "I was really nervous, so it was nice to have someone by my side."

Alex's stomach is starting to feel funny again. He bites his lip, blinking down at Henry's fingers next to his on the seat between them and experiencing the most random, bizarre urge to close the distance between them. He snatches his hand back into his lap and looks out the window at the blur of colorful holiday lights instead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later today because I had to get errands done before the BLIZZARD HITS!!!!!!!! Oof! Hope everyone is staying warm and safe. Please enjoy the chapter :D <3

Alex wakes up, suddenly and completely as though he hadn't been sleeping at all, and blinks his eyes open to see the air mattress on the floor next to him empty, blankets thrown back. He moves without thinking, padding out into the hallway and across the house.

The light is off in the kitchen, but Alex hears something from inside. When he looks, there's a tall, dark shape framed by the light of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He steps inside and clears his throat, and Henry turns around in apparent surprise, a freshly decorated Christmas cookie in the shape of a mitten halfway to his mouth. 

"Oh," Henry says, frozen, as though Alex just told him to stick 'em up.

"Late night cookie craving?" Alex says, moving to the center island. He swipes a cookie out of the tupperware for himself, then leans on the counter, eyes on Henry.

"I've got a bit of a sweet tooth, but usually only when I can't sleep. Sorry," Henry adds, then cringes, as though he knows that was a ridiculous thing to say. "I mean, if I woke you up by getting up."

Alex doesn't reassure him, just continues to assess him from several feet away, taking a bite of his own Santa cookie.

"Are you having trouble sleeping?" Henry asks, then turns back to face the window, leaning his shoulder up against it. Big, fat snowflakes are still falling outside; it's barely sticking, but the snow has been going on long enough now that a thin layer of white coats the grass. Cloud cover dominates the sky, save for a sliver of moonlight reflecting off the snow. It makes the entire night outside seem oddly lit up, while the house remains dark. 

Alex weighs whether or not to go for honesty. "Always," he finally admits, then shuffles over to join Henry at the window. Henry glances down at him, his eyes softening.

"Yeah," Henry says, quiet. "Me too." His eyes flick back to the yard; Alex doesn't take his off Henry. He finds he doesn't want to. He likes the way the light lands on Henry's face, creating dips of darkness and planes of light, the way Henry's still chewing the remnants of his cookie, the sharp line of his jaw working. Henry looks at him again, eyelashes lowering as his eyes dip down. 

Alex finally looks away and says, "You like the snow?"

"Yeah," Henry replies. "Yeah, I know it's the whole climate change thing. But it makes it feel a bit more like home, having a white Christmas."

"Any Christmas you celebrate is automatically white with your pasty ass," Alex says, then blinks rapidly as he registers that he's got a fully realized image in his head of Henry's literal ass, along with the rest of his long, naked body, pale and shimmering in the moonlight. Maybe it's a normal kind of thought to have after you find out someone's gay, Alex reasons with himself.

Henry laughs. Alex grins at him. For some reason, he feels fully comfortable with Henry for the first time since they left Rice. He feels like he can say what's on his mind and Henry likes it. And he really, really likes the way Henry's eyelashes look in the moonlight, its brightness magnified by the fresh, white snow.

Alex finishes his cookie. He thinks about asking if Henry's missing his family tonight. He thinks about asking if he feels included enough in all the stuff they're doing. He thinks about asking if Henry wants another cookie.

He doesn't ask any of it. Instead, their eyes meet, and some kind of feral lizard brain takes over, and before he knows what's happening, he's tilting his head up and gently pressing their lips together.

Henry's mouth is soft and sweet and powdery, the taste of sugar overwhelming any other flavor. He doesn't pause in response, just finds Alex's lower back with his hand and splays long fingers across it, pulling him in closer. Alex may have initiated the kiss, but Henry's the one who deepens it, parting his lips and slipping his tongue in Alex's mouth. Alex has no idea what he's doing or why, so he gladly lets Henry take over, gets swept up in the feel of having to tilt his head up instead of down, lets his hand fall to Henry's chest, the firm muscle beneath his flannel pajamas. Henry seems all too happy to do the sweeping, pulling Alex into his torso and kissing him like it was never a question for him at all, like he was just waiting for this moment and now that it's here, he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Alex enjoys it, too. Thoughts of maybe heteroflexible and probably bicurious vanish from his mind. All he knows is that he kissed Henry, and he is kissing Henry, and he wants to keep kissing Henry for as long as possible. He wants to stop kissing him just so he can start again; he wants to kiss him a thousand different ways, in every possible position. His head is starting to feel fuzzy, and he thinks he might already be getting addicted to the way he feels under Henry's lips.

After some undetermined amount of time, Henry pulls back, loosening his grip as though wanting to give Alex the option of slipping away. Alex keeps his hands firmly on Henry's shoulders, slides them up his neck with purpose, trying to leave Henry no doubt about what he wants. Henry lets out a shaky, exhaled little breath of a laugh and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, they lock on Alex. The intensity of it feels like one more way Henry is touching him.

"What…" Henry says weakly, rubbing his thumb up and down the base of Alex's spine, sending tingles through his lower back. He's smiling, looking a little unsure, but mostly just rumpled and beautiful. "What was that for?"

"I wanted to," Alex says with a half-shrug. He determinedly doesn't shy away from Henry's gaze. "The moonlight looks good on you."

Henry laughs harder. Alex grins up at him.

"That's...one of the more romantic things anyone has ever said to me."

"I can think of a few more, if you want."

"I...er…”

"Or," Alex interrupts, "you could kiss me again."

Henry doesn't pause. He pushes Alex up against the glass door, connecting their bodies in an entirely new and incredible way. Alex scratches his fingers up through Henry's hair; Henry makes a small noise and presses into him with purpose. Alex keeps it slow, though, lazy, gentle. He's a little surprised by how much he doesn't feel the need to get laid tonight. He just wants to kiss Henry, and kiss him and kiss him, maybe all fucking night, until June comes to wake them up for Christmas pancakes.

"Christ," Henry says into his mouth when they break apart again. He's breathing harder this time, his cheeks pinker, his eyes brighter and more mischievous. "Are you trying to wreck me before I can experience a proper American Christmas?"

"Never," Alex says, smirking as he drags his hands back down Henry's shoulders, over his chest, scratching his nails lightly over Henry's stomach and then gripping his hips.

"Oh," Henry says, sounding kind of strangled. "Guess it's just a side effect, then."

Alex is at an irritatingly good height to kiss Henry's neck, so he leans forward and finds Henry's pulse point with his tongue, leaves soft, lapping kisses up under the curve of his jaw. Henry's hands tighten and release on Alex's waist, and after a minute, an honest-to-god squeak comes out of his mouth, possibly by accident. Alex falls back, laughing.

"Don't you mock me," Henry says, bringing one hand up to run through his hair. "I've just been attacked in the middle of the night by the mouth of possibly the sexiest man I've ever seen in my life when all I was trying to do was secretly eat biscuits. You did this to me."

"The sexiest man you've ever seen? You're fucking with me."

"I wish I was," Henry says, gazing down at Alex, something hungry in his eyes. Alex bites his lip but returns his gaze. "Do you want to…" Henry trails off.

"What?" Alex says and nips at his chin.

"Erm...go to...your room?" A bright red flush overtakes Henry's cheeks at this. Alex understands that he's not asking about going to sleep. He quirks an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I...don't think we should, like, hook up tonight, though," Alex adds quickly.

"Right," Henry says. Alex has no idea how to read his expression, now. He loosens his grip around Alex's waist. 

"Because I like you," Alex blurts out. Henry's eyes go big and round, his lips curving up.

"That's why you _don't_ want to hook up with me?"

"Yeah. Because I don't want to like...rush too much. Or whatever." Alex actually has no idea what he's saying now, but words somehow keep coming out of his mouth, so he just rolls with it.

"So you'd...er...want this to continue? After tonight?" The expression on Henry's face is shy and adorable and perfect.

"Yeah. Maybe. I think."

"Okay.” Henry’s tone of voice manages to communicate that he probably has a million questions he wants to ask but is gamely gritting his teeth and holding himself back. That he's just letting it be what it is, for now. Alex is grateful, because his head is messed up from the kissing, and from Henry's eyes on him, and from feeling Henry very solidly up against him in a way that can indicate only one thing, and he has no idea how to start making sense of it all. He mostly just knows that he doesn't want to stop and he doesn't want to fuck it up.

"So," Alex says. He drops his hands to Henry's and takes one between them. "My room?"

"Your room," Henry confirms, his smile absolutely brilliant.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayayay we're almost there! I think I'm going to tack on a little (short) bonus epilogue on the 26th - I've had plans for it in my notes but I just have to write it. Haha. If I tell you about it now then I'll feel more beholden. Right? :D 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter today my loves <3 and if you are celebrating today have a fun and safe time! <3

Alex is awoken for the second day in a row by loud pounding on his door, along with the sound of the doorknob turning. An intense panic seizes his entire torso as he takes in the fact that he and Henry are both in his tiny twin bed together, completely tangled up and draped all over each other, clad only in boxers. 

"Alex! Henry! It's time to get up! It's Christmas, motherfuckers! Why is this door locked?"

Henry sits bolt upright, his hair sticking up in about twelve different places and his eyes wide with terror. The unique sensation of their sweat-dried skin peeling apart in several places is one Alex will certainly remember for a long time.

"Be right there," he croaks, the burst of adrenaline sending warmth through all of his limbs and heating up his face, even as he praises whatever kind of deity might exist that he thought to lock the door.

"Hurry up! Pancakes in five, then presents!" 

Alex waits until he hears June's feet shuffle off before gazing up at Henry and biting his lip. 

"Er," Henry says, his entire face and chest tomato-red and splotchy.

"Good morning," Alex says, hoping the huskiness of his sleep-filled voice comes across as sexy and not pathetic.

"Good morning," Henry says, then smiles uncertainly. His eyes burn into Alex. The sight of him might just be the cutest fucking thing Alex has ever seen. Alex's insides are heating up further now at the very fresh memory of the two of them, the entire length of their bodies pressed hotly together, kissing and grinding and determinedly not having anything that could remotely be considered sex for a very long time the previous night. It's been years since Alex was that incredibly well-behaved when it came to sexual temptation, even if he and Henry had removed various articles of clothing quite quickly and it had been readily apparent how much each one wanted the other.

Henry blinks and looks away. It's only a second before his mouth drops open when he spots the overstuffed, red felt stocking carefully laid at the end of the air mattress on the floor, gifts and candy spilling out of it like a cornucopia.

"What is that?" Henry says, nodding towards it.

"What is what?" Alex says innocently.

"That stocking. Why is that there? How did it get there?"

"Father Christmas must have come and left it for you. It's at the end of your bed, right? Go open it."

"Alex." Henry is looking at him again, his expression strangely bare. "Did you do this?"

"Do what?" The fact that he had managed to extract himself from Henry's arms after he fell asleep last night, get the stocking, and bring it back without Henry noticing had been an actual fucking Christmas miracle, but Alex isn't about to tell Henry that.

All of a sudden, Henry's on top of him, tackling him down onto the mattress and kissing him senseless. Alex laughs into it, half embarrassed about his terrible morning breath and half delighted that Henry couldn't resist kissing him before they had both brushed their teeth. After a minute, he pushes Henry's face away.

"Seriously, go open something. It's Christmas."

Henry purses his lips, but it's obvious he's trying not to smile. He flops himself onto the air mattress; Alex moves down to the foot of bed to watch from closer up. Henry picks up the first gift, wrapped in colorful tissue paper, and tears it open. When he sees what's inside, he practically falls over laughing.

"Die Hard? _Really?"_

"Look, you need to understand the absolute majesty of this Christmas movie, and you're gonna have to watch it with or without me."

"If those are my options, I'd prefer with you." Henry's grinning at him, and Alex's stomach is squirming again, and he's starting to understand that it's not from being sick or lack of sleep. It's just Henry, and Henry's smile, and the way that Henry makes him feel.

—

Christmas day passes in a whirlwind of food and activity and gifts and laughter. It's weird how easily Henry fits in with their family, debating politics with Ellen and Oscar but somehow managing to keep them from getting at each other's throats, helping Leo with the Christmas dinner cooking until Leo declares him Top Sous Chef, going deep analyzing Robert Frost poetry with June on the floor of the living room, each one of them seeming to inspire more profound and creative thoughts in the other.

And then there's the way he is with Alex—taking all of Alex's shit and somehow giving it back twice as good, surprising him into full, belly laughs and then watching him with glimmering eyes and a giant smile. Alex is giddy all fucking day, wondering if Henry's mouth has always looked that red and swollen or if it's still like that from the hours of kissing they did the night before; noticing the sting from the little patch of stubble rash on his chin that Henry left him; feeling Henry's fingers brush across his lower back as they file into the living room to open presents and getting shivers over his entire body.

At one point, when Henry's in the kitchen with Leo, June drags him into her bedroom and sits him down forcefully on the bed, eyes blazing.

"Okay, what the fuck did you do?"

Alex looks up at her as innocently as possible, but he knows he's cowering in fear. "What do you mean?"

"You and Henry both look like you snuck out last night, partied until bar close, possibly had a massive orgy, and didn't get a wink of sleep. Are you corrupting him?"

"Am _I_ corrupting _him?_ He's the one who—" _tore my pants off and dry humped me like his fucking life depended on it,_ Alex very impressively stops himself from saying, but it's occurring to him that maybe he should have thought about it a little harder before making out with June's friend who's going to be staying in their house for the next several weeks. Or at least asked her first if it was okay. But it had been kind of a spontaneous thing, definitely brought on by the snow and the middle of the night and the fucking moonlight on Henry's eyelashes, and he can't really be held responsible for that.

"Who _what?"_ June looks like she's about to surgically remove every single one of his teeth if he doesn't fess up, so he resigns himself to the beating he's about to receive.

"Um, look. I know you wanted me to be nice to Henry, and get along with him and stuff." Alex takes a breath.

_"And?"_

"And we were both having trouble sleeping last night and we kind of ended up...talking, and then, like…" Alex coughs. "Kissing. A lot. Like all night."

June's eyes widen. _"Oh._ Oh, Alex, that's amazing!"

"It is?"

She's beaming now, clapping her hands together, and sitting down next to Alex on the bed. Alex stares at her. 

"Yes! Absolutely! Is it...do you like him?"

"I...yeah. Like he's totally an overly pretentious prick and I want to smack him half the time, but I also kind of...like that."

"Yeah," June says with a knowing grin. "So, do you have anything you want to, like, tell me? About yourself? And any, like, orientations or identities you might have figured out or anything like that?"

Alex groans. "Jesus fucking Christ, June. We just kissed. I haven't exactly had time to analyze my sexual orientation in the last 6 hours while we were all eating breakfast and opening presents."

June laughs. "Okay, okay. But you'll tell me when you do, right?"

Alex shoots her a glare. "Of course. Are you saying I have your permission to, like...go out with him? If he wants to?"

"Like you've ever asked for my permission to do anything. But yeah. I think you two would be really good for each other." June's expression is turning a little too emotional for the number of hours that Alex slept last night. He covers her face with his hand.

"Can we please stop talking about this now?"

"Fine. But, you know, Nora invited me to come visit her in Vermont if the two of you want some alone time. I could go up there for a few days." June waggles her eyebrows under Alex's fingers, then aggressively licks his palm.

"Jesus! Stop it. Do whatever you want. I don't care."

"I'll see what Henry thinks," June says, then throws her arms around Alex's shoulders. He smiles into her arm, hugging her back. "Love you, dumbass."

"I love you too."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little story, when Len was talking me into writing this fic, I rationalized it to myself as "I can write ten 1000 word chapters and it won't be that big of an undertaking!" And as I was plotting it out, chapter 10 was the smut. And Len was like, you'll never be able to write a 1000 word sex scene. And I was like, fuck you, I can totally be concise and write a 1000 word sex scene! So of course, the smutty chapter ended up close to 5000 words. aldkjfklajs merry Christmas y'all. :D
> 
> I've so enjoyed posting this fic and chatting with you all, and I'm so very appreciative for your love and comments, they seriously feed me! Thank you thank you thank you. <3 Still planning to write a little epilogue for this story so be on the lookout for that, and I should also have a very smutty and very kinky one shot going up New Year's Eve! :D <3
> 
> Please enjoy the last chapter and have a wonderful Christmas, whether or not you celebrate :) <33333333

New Years' passes in a haze of champagne and dancing in Liam's basement with a bunch of Alex and June's friends from high school, kissing Henry at midnight in front of everybody and not bothering to explain a single thing to anyone. It feels weird and good to be with Henry in front of people who know him, and when they get home, Alex really, really wants to get naked with him, but he's also extremely drunk and somehow, it doesn't seem like the best idea for their first time. And his first time, with a guy. Henry ends up kissing what feels like every inch of his face and ears and jaw and neck and chest and ribs and torso, leaving Alex sensitive and ticklish and giggling, and they fall asleep holding each other, and it's honestly just really fucking nice.

A few days later, June flies up to Vermont to spend the weekend with Nora. Alex and Henry watch the last two Harry Potter movies and Henry doesn't let Alex distract him from the Battle of Hogwarts with kissing, which Alex grudgingly respects. After, though, Alex crawls on top of him on the couch, and it's immediately apparent that Henry used up any ounce of willpower he had left during the movie. He kisses Alex like Alex's mouth is one of his essential food groups until Alex cuts him off, ignoring his protests, and pulls him down the hallway to his bedroom.

Alex falls back onto his bed, propping himself up by the elbows as he waits for Henry to tug off his sweater. This part is familiar, at least. They've done this many times now, the kissing and kissing and even more kissing in Alex's stupid twin bed, which is barely big enough for him, let alone all six fucking feet of Henry fucking Windsor. It's familiar how Henry lowers himself on top of Alex with a self-conscious little grimace, the corner of his mouth pinched, and how Alex can't stop himself from reaching up to kiss that corner, which makes it turn into a smile, which he loves. He lets his legs fall open to allow Henry's body to fit between them, and their hips connect, and Alex makes an involuntary noise deep in his throat, which gets Henry going—really moving. He kisses Alex with a ferocity that shows in his teeth, his tongue, his hips, undulating on top of him. 

It's all familiar, but something feels different. Maybe it's the way Henry fell into him, the way Alex opened up to take him in, the way it feels so natural for him to lock his ankles behind Henry's lower back, leveraging himself to meet Henry with every grinding thrust. Henry is thrusting, Alex realizes—and that's what's different, that Alex is on his back receiving it with his thighs spread wide, and Henry is giving it to him. All their clothes are still on, but the realization of exactly what kind of position they're in causes a blaze of heat to spread up Alex's face. He's never even thought about _receiving_ like that before—is that what Henry wants to do to him?

Henry thrusts harder and Alex moans. Is tonight the night? Is Henry trying to tell him what he wants? Does Henry want to _fuck_ him?

Alex's head almost spins off at the thought, but he's rutting up into him in return anyway, like his body is taking over and responding in ways that his overfull mind might not allow for. Henry's kisses are full of zeal, his movements urgent and desperate; and Alex decides to let it all go, to go on instinct, to see what happens and stop it if he doesn't like it. Henry's probably been waiting for his signal, Alex realizes, since Alex was the one to slow things down the first night they kissed. Since he said all that stupid stuff about not wanting to rush. They haven't; they've been making out like horny teenagers every chance they get, and somehow all that kissing and fairly innocent touching has built up Alex's anticipation so much that he thinks he might die if he doesn't get Henry naked, now.

Alex grabs the hem of Henry's t-shirt and slides it up over his back, dragging his hands along the way, feeling his spine and his muscles and his shoulderblades and the overwhelming amount of skin, skin, skin. Henry draws back slightly to allow Alex to pull the shirt over his head, and then Alex's hands are on his chest, and Henry's fucking nipples are taut and hard under his fingertips, which is incredibly, unbelievably sexy. He pinches one between his thumb and forefinger and Henry groans into his mouth. Alex's hands move down his sides, over his hips, and he actually _feels_ the second goosebumps break out over Henry's skin, and it's totally fucking electric, all of it. Like every response Henry's body utters is directly connected to Alex's dick, making him hard and needy, and thankfully Henry seems to know, or understand, or _something_ , because he pulls at Alex's t-shirt, too, and Alex kind of wriggles until Henry can get it over his head.

And then Henry's just grinding against him again, but this time their bare stomachs and chests are sliding together when he does it, and their mouths are crashing together too, a slick exchange of tongues, and God, it's fucking good. Alex has had plenty of sexual experience—from a serious girlfriend in high school to casual dating in college to one night stands to the occasional random drunken orgy at philosophy club meetings that somehow always turned into dens of alcohol and pot and five-way kisses first semester of freshman year—but somehow, this feels...different. Like it's already hotter, even though Henry hasn't even touched his dick, and his skin feels primed to Henry's touch, Henry's hands all over him, up his arms, long fingers sliding over the sides of his neck, one hand tightening into a fist and tugging at his hair. 

_Fuck._ Hair-pulling. Alex makes a mental note of that. It travels straight down to his lower back, arousal pooling low and hot there, and he urges his hips up to meet Henry's as his hands roam all over every square inch of Henry's bare skin. Alex scratches his fingernails down Henry's sides and Henry lets out a kind of gasp-groan that sounds extremely loud in the quiet room. Alex fists a hand in his hair now and pulls him back, noting the way Henry's eyes darken at the rough contact.

"Shhh," Alex murmurs with a dangerous grin. "Can't wake anybody up." June's in Vermont and his mom and Leo's bedroom is upstairs, so it's unlikely they'll hear anything, but he likes saying it anyway.

Henry's eyes are wide and blown out; his lips are red and plump, and every bit of skin Alex can get his eyes on is flushed.

"You're going to kill me," Henry whispers, looking utterly helpless and debauched. Alex fucking loves it.

"Are you waiting for my signal to go any further?" Alex asks. "Because you fucking have it."

"Yeah?" Henry's lips are parted, breath coming quick. Alex drags his finger along the waistband of Henry's pants, and then, taking a deep breath, moves his hand to Henry's groin. Alex can feel him, like, really _feel_ him—he could before, he knew Henry was hard, that he has been every time they've made out, it's not like it's a revelation—but something about actually touching him there, hot under Alex's hand, and the way Henry's eyes flutter shut and his mouth drops open even further, makes it all feel very, very real. And the intense need that Alex experiences to get all of Henry's clothes off— _now_ —is suddenly extremely real as well.

"Is that clear enough?" Alex whispers. Henry's eyes fly open again, his expression fierce.

"Please, Alex—" Henry starts, but Alex is already tearing at the fastenings of his pants, the button, the zipper, and Henry's head drops down so their foreheads are touching, and Alex can feel his breath hot against his lips. Then Alex is pushing fabric down, and Henry's kind of falling into the bed trying to help him along, and on his way back up, Alex trails his hand over the outside of Henry's thigh, feeling over the front, all the way to the inside and up. He reaches Henry's cock and just runs the tips of his fingers up the shaft, feeling the smooth skin and the vein running along it, the head, and Henry's actually fucking shaking on top of him, and it's kind of intense but also amazing.

Henry's breath sounds hoarse. He thrusts gently up into Alex's hand; Alex gets the hint. He grips Henry's cock and starts stroking, just slowly, getting a feel for how it's different in his hand; Henry's uncircumsized, apparently, and there's a lot more skin to work with, and things are just moving really easily, and Alex likes it a _lot_. He thinks about dragging his tongue along that skin, where everything is pulled back tight beneath the crown, and he lets out a breathy moan.

"Yeah," Henry says, sounding dazed. "Yeah, oh my God, yeah," barely even words. Alex thinks he should make some kind of wisecrack about how Henry's supposed to be a book nerd and a language guy and now he's been reduced to monosyllables, but somehow any words he wants to say get caught in his throat, trapped in the sweet, sticky sound of Henry's moans and the slow as molasses movements of Henry's body. Alex grips him tighter, gets his free hand around Henry's back and runs it down over his ass, encouraging Henry to thrust again, and Henry does. He thrusts into Alex's fist and Alex makes a tight little hole for him to squeeze himself through, and Henry's dropping his head to Alex's shoulder, his mouth on Alex's ear, licking and kissing and biting and groaning. Alex encourages him on with noises of his own, with his hand spread across Henry's ass and pushing, and it all feels so good Alex almost forgets he isn't even being fucking touched.

"Fuck," Alex bursts out. He's hot and trapped in his pants, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. He lets go of Henry and pushes on him insistently until they're flipped, Alex on top and looking down at Henry's long, pale body, his skin so luminescent it's practically lighting up the dark room. It's somehow both exactly and nothing like he imagined. Henry's panting, looking up at him, and Alex loves the way it sounds, loves the way it feels to know he's responsible for it. Alex dips down for a kiss, which Henry drags him into with force, wrapping both arms around Alex's back and pressing them together as tightly as possible, or maybe even tighter than that.

When Alex tries to pull back, Henry chases after him, and he allows one more brief tangle of lips and tongues before placing a finger across Henry's open mouth and starting to crawl down his body. He kisses his jutting collarbone; Henry's hands come up, pressing into his own forehead. Alex mouths down the sweaty skin under his arm, inhaling his scent, along his side, over to the hard lines of his ribs. Henry's looking down at him, so Alex meets his eyes. He's greedy for the connection, to see every single thing he does on Henry's face. Henry tugs a deep red lip between his teeth and Alex drags his thumb down the center of Henry's chest, following the line until he reaches the dip of Henry's navel. Alex waits for Henry's head to drop back as he mouths over his hipbone, but it doesn't. He keeps watching, and watching, like he wants to memorize what it's like to have Alex's mouth on his body with his sight as well as his skin.

Alex wants to keep it up, too, doesn't want to break off eye contact first, but he can feel the heat already rising in his cheeks, a flush taking over his face as he realizes he's never actually done this before, and maybe he should look before he accidentally takes Henry's dick up his nose.

His eyes slide to the left and it's there in front of him, ripe for the taking, precome smearing and shining wet at the tip. That's where Alex goes first; he curls his tongue over the head, collecting Henry's taste, taking it down his throat and then exhaling. It's sharp and tangy and a little sweet, and Alex already wants to taste it again.

He does, lapping slowly at the pearly fluid continuing to bead up. He could honestly do this all day. Henry's breathing is ragged and he's making these weird little noises, groans and grunts, like Alex is doing something amazing, but all he's really doing is tasting him and tasting him, over and over again. He finds the foreskin with his tongue next, teasing along it, prodding underneath, and when he glances up, Henry isn't looking at him anymore; he actually has his fingers pressed into his eyes, hands covering his face. Heat pools in Alex's groin at the sight of him, somehow still gorgeous even with damp hair plastered to his forehead and his face mostly covered.

Alex takes Henry's cock in his hand and wraps his lips around the crown, and he grips tight, moving up and down while he just sucks at the tip, pulsing his tongue. Henry is cursing quietly, clearly restraining himself from jerking his hips, which is making his entire body kind of shaky. Alex is focusing pretty hard, taking more of Henry in his mouth, trying to keep his teeth covered and his lips soft, meeting his hand with his mouth. After a minute establishing a rhythm, he almost jumps when he feels Henry's hand tentatively brush over his hair, and his eyes flick up and lock on Henry's, now wide open and staring straight at him. Alex moans, which makes Henry whimper, but it seems to encourage him too, and all five of Henry's long fingers firmly cup the back of his head. He's not trying to push or direct, just resting them there, and the extra bit of connection sends heat spiking through Alex's body.

Alex releases him to catch his breath for a second, then laves his tongue up and down the underside of Henry's dick, flicking and flicking at the head. He almost can't believe the way Henry's breath is coming in shaky gasps and sharp little inhales, and when he sucks him down again, Henry's moan is so loud Alex almost pulls off to tell him to shut up before Henry says, in a deep voice that tingles its way straight down Alex's spine, "I'm going to come," somehow enunciating every fucking word, and then Alex's mouth is filling with that same sharp flavor that's already becoming familiar, which makes Alex feel fuzzy if he thinks about it for too long.

"Agh," Henry says, apparently having lost all of his skills of articulation throughout the duration of his orgasm. "Ungh."

Alex grins up at him, pushing past a weird shyness he's literally never experienced before this moment to say, "Was that okay?"

Henry just pants at him with his mouth dropped open and his eyes bigger than a pair of twin blue moons before managing a vigorous nod. He reaches down, so Alex crawls back up his body until he's in Henry's arms again, and Henry's kissing him sweetly, soft little brushes of tongue and pliant lips against his own. It feels really, really good. Like so strangely good that Alex doesn't even mind his own throbbing dick; he's honestly pretty fucking satisfied with the fact that he got Henry off with his mouth, and Henry somehow still wants to kiss him like this.

"That was bloody incredible," Henry says against his lips, apparently having regained his ability to use words. Then Henry kisses him again, like he just can't resist, and it makes Alex smile.

Alex is still wearing jeans. This seems like a problem, but he can't really bring himself to do anything about it, and they kiss for a long while, until Henry is sitting up with Alex straddling his lap, running his hands up and down all over Alex's back. Every inch of his skin is yearning for Henry to touch it, but as soon as he does, the satisfaction only lasts for a second before he wants it there again, and again, and again. 

Henry pulls back and regards him seriously—as seriously as he can with seriously pink cheeks and a seriously red mouth. He says, "Take your trousers off." 

Alex gets a little thrill at Henry telling him what to do. An actual, honest-to-God thrill that runs down the entire length of his body and back up to jolt through his groin. He bites his lip and unbuttons his jeans, pulls down the zipper, starts wriggling them off on top of Henry, all too pleased with the gleam in Henry's eyes as Alex does what he told him to. Alex gets up on his knees, steadies himself on Henry's shoulders, does everything he can to not have to break contact long enough to get everything off, and when he's fully naked, he settles back down on Henry's lap, and Henry's soft, still-slick cock settles up against the underside of his balls, and _fuck_ that feels weird but also really good and Henry's moaning so it must feel okay to him too. Right?

"I don't want to crush you," Alex says, just to make sure, but Henry's hands take hold of his waist and grind him down.

"It feels good," Henry says, moving his hips a little to meet Alex above him. " _You_ feel good." Henry's pulling him into another kiss before Alex can think too deeply about those words. 

When Henry's fingers encircle his cock, Alex almost chokes on air. He knew he might theoretically be getting off tonight, too, but he hadn't really thought about what that might actually feel like; it's been too fun to focus on Henry, all the ways he responds to Alex's touch, all his noises and tastes and smells and the pure, thick _feel_ of him, heavy on Alex's tongue. Henry kisses him deeper, and Alex's arms sling helplessly around Henry's neck, holding him close, as Henry starts to jerk him off slowly. 

Alex writhes in his lap. He's going to last four seconds. It feels too good, he's too turned on, Henry's fingers are too fucking long and his palms are too fucking big and Henry's _dick_ is touching his _ass_ and Alex is going to put that on a list of things he had no idea he was into until now but he thinks may actually be his favorite thing, along with sucking cock and foreskin and the way Henry sounds when he says, "I'm going to come," in his ridiculously fucking proper British accent. He's going to come and Henry's going to—

Stop. Henry stops. He takes his hand off Alex's dick and puts it on Alex's ass instead, both of them, actually, lifting Alex's hips up as his head dips down, and he kisses Alex's chest, his nipples, as he's encouraging Alex to get up onto his knees, which are now digging into the mattress on either side of Henry's thighs as his weight shifts. Henry's moving back, sliding out from under him, then down, and Alex is kneeling in front of him, and his chin bumps into Alex's cock, and Alex realizes what's happening about half a second before Henry inhales deeply and then swallows down just about the entire length of Alex's cock.

His reaction time is about half a second behind, too, but once all the synapses in his brain connect, liquid fire bursts through his veins, filling him with pure, transcendent ecstasy. Henry doesn't waste any time; he takes Alex deep, deeper still, and Alex just moans and moans without even realizing it at the feel of his dick literally down Henry's throat. He experiences another brief moment of panic as he thinks again that he's going to come without any warning, but then Henry's pulling off and Alex is left gasping for air and letting out a stream of meaningless words and curses. He might have told Henry he loves him or he hates him, he's not really sure, but Henry's just grinning up at him like he's enjoying every fucking second of it, taking Alex's cock back in his hand again and saying in a brief pause between curse words for Alex to breathe, "Just wanted it a little wetter," and then he's leaning back in and sucking Alex down and working the base of his cock too, relentless and totally fucking unreal, and this time, the combination wins. Every overwhelming sensation takes over, and Alex comes crying out in a white-hot blaze of intensity, his violently shaking thighs barely holding him up with the pleasure that rushes through his entire body.

"Fuck," Alex hears himself saying from some other plane of existence. "Fuck, fuck, fuck me, fuck you, fucking _fuck."_

Henry's laughing, now, lapping at his sensitive, post-orgasm cock around a smile. Alex is just kind of staring down at him in shock and maybe a little bit of disgust that Henry is _that_ fucking good at giving head and he's only _now_ finding out about it.

"That was fun," Henry says, pulling Alex back down on top of him once he seems satisfied with his clean-up job and tangling his fingers in Alex's hair as he lays them both horizontal, kissing him and kissing him until Alex has no breath left. He tilts Henry's head to the side, panting against his jaw; he can feel Henry's smile against his skin.

"That's...an," Alex says, every other breath, "under...statement."

"I," Henry starts, but then he just laughs softly and nuzzles his face in Alex's neck. Alex waits for him to say something else, but he doesn't. 

"You," Alex breathes, _"what?"_

"I...oh, nothing." Henry kisses under his jaw, presumably trying to distract him, and it almost works.

"Tell me," Alex demands, putting his fingers under Henry's chin and lifting it up. 

Henry groans, but he meets Alex's eyes. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to...do any of that. But I'm really glad you did. I enjoyed every second of it."

"I wanted to," Alex says quickly. "It was just kind of...my first time. With a dude."

"Yeah," Henry says with the sweetest little smile that makes Alex's heart do several somersaults in his chest. "I thought it might be. But I hope it's not the last."

"No fucking way," Alex replies, eyes widening. "Not after finding out what you can _do_. Jesus Christ, Windsor."

Henry groans and buries his face in Alex's neck again. This time, Alex lets him, petting his hair, enjoying the sticky mess the two of them make together.

"So that's the only reason it won't be the last time?" Henry mumbles against his skin after a moment, then seals his lips over Alex's throat, sucking lightly.

Alex rolls his eyes, even though Henry's not looking at him. "There's a lot of reasons. That's one. Another one is because I like you."

Henry's lips make a smacking sound as he pulls off, looking back at Alex's face again. "You do?"

"Yeah, dumbass. I told you that already. Like five times."

"Maybe I just like hearing you say it," Henry murmurs, fiercely maintaining eye contact despite his rapidly spreading blush. "Since I thought you hated me since...fall semester of last year."

"What? How would I have hated you? We didn't even know each other last year."

"We did," Henry says, and his face is turning bright red now. "We had intro to political science together in that huge lecture hall. You sat in the front row and I sat in the back because I had no idea about American politics, and I made some dumb comment one time demonstrating my utter ignorance, and you cut in to inform me how severely uninformed I was and school me in the correct answer, and I never spoke in that class again."

"You were in that class?" Alex says, his mind muddled and slow. "With Professor Luna?"

"Yes. And I had class next door beforehand, so I was always the first one there, and you always came in late still knowing exactly what was going on and instantly jumping into arguments with the professor, and I agonized over how fit and clever and shamelessly tardy you were every single day, and I couldn't wait for the semester to end so I could get over my bollocks crush on you and move on with my life."

Alex stares at him. "How am I just now finding out about this?"

Henry blushes, somehow, even more fiercely. "I might have said something on the drive here, but you...weren't in the mood to talk."

Alex thinks guiltily back to picking up Henry in front of McMurty, his post-finals migraine and exhaustion. "I was...a jerk. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I thought June had sent you on a bet with Nora to test my heteroflexibility or whatever because you were so hot, so I was really annoyed."

Henry bursts out laughing. "Heteroflexible? Is that your official orientation?"

"Not anymore. I think it's pretty safe to say I'm just bi at this point."

"And I had something to do with that?"

"Yeah. Kind of a lot, actually."

"Hey. That's really great." Henry tightens his arms around Alex's waist, his smile big and proud. Alex returns it. Then Henry asks, "Is my phone nearby?"

Alex glances around them at the mess of clothes and tangled sheets. "I don't see it. Why?"

"I just wanted to text June that she owes me fifty dollars."

_"What?"_ Alex gasps. "Why the _fuck_ would June owe you fifty dollars, Henry?"

"Because," Henry says before bursting into a series of uncontrollable, high-pitched cackles, "the bet was with me, and I've won with your confession, and she's going to pay up when she gets back from Vermont."

"You slept with me just to _win a bet_ with June? I changed my mind." Alex shoves him in the chest. "I hate you. Get off me." Alex would be, he thinks, impressed, if he wasn't so fucking _pissed off_.

"No, Alex, no, not at all! I swear I didn't have bad intentions!" Henry's face is quickly going through a series of expressions ranging from amusement to sorrow to guilt. "June was speculating a bit that you were bi, and I came to agree when I heard all her stories about you. The bet was only about who you would come out to first. I thought having another queer man around might speed up your process a bit. Just happened in a way I wasn't expecting…" The flush on Henry's cheeks deepens. "...what with the blowjobs and all. I thought it more likely we'd get pissed and have a late night heart-to-heart. But clearly, as my massive, year-and-a-half long crush on you reveals, sleeping with you had nothing to do with the bet."

Alex just stares at him, aghast. "You're a fucking menace to society. Both of you! Betting on someone's sexuality? How low can you get? Jesus Christ, see if I ever suck _your_ dick again—"

"I'm sorry," Henry moans, clutching at Alex's shoulders and pressing his cheek to Alex's chest. "It was just for fun and so very, very stupid. I won't actually collect, and of course you shouldn't come out to June until you're ready."

"Oh no, you are absolutely collecting the money," Alex says, fisting his hand in Henry's hair and pulling him back up to eye level. "And you're going to spend it taking me out to a really fucking nice dinner, and you'll be lucky if that even covers the bottle of wine I'm going to drink all by myself so I can forget this bullshit ever happened."

"Of course," Henry says, his eyes huge and pleading. 

_"And_ I want you to suck me off every single day for the rest of break."

"What a hardship," Henry deadpans. Alex glares at him. "No, really, I'm sorry. Please forgive me," he begs, which sounds much better, in Alex's opinion.

"I hate you so fucking much," he says, still glaring, but his lips are betraying him, twitching up into a smile.

"That's not what you were saying a few minutes ago when I was—"

Alex shuts him up with a kiss. 


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I can't resist an epilogue!! :D <3

"So when you left for break, did you ever think you'd be returning with a boyfriend?" Henry's looking at him from the passenger seat, a sly grin on his face. Alex rolls his eyes.

"Don't get a big head, Windsor. I'm obviously just using you as my ticket into the rooftop parties at McMurtry."

"Oh, is that what all this has been about?" 

"Totally. That's been my plan ever since we had that class together last year. Make you fall desperately in love with me on sight, pine and yearn for a solid year and a half while June is undercover becoming friends with you, hit you with a kiss when you're least expecting it, and then take over your dorm room when we get back to campus. It's been a long game, but it'll all be worth it now." Alex shoots him a smirk.

"June's involved too, is she?"

"Yeah, sorry to break it to you, but she's way too cool to be friends with a chump like you." Perhaps slightly undermining his point, Alex reaches over and takes Henry's hand atop his knee. Henry immediately threads their fingers together, huffing out a laugh.

"So I suppose all the sex we're been having is just incidental? Natural consequence of your evil plot?"

"Exactly. I had to really commit, y'know?"

"That's interesting, because I seem to remember you waxing poetic on multiple occasions about how much you love my—"

"Jesus fucking Christ," June yells from the backseat, followed by a sound _thwack_ on the back of both of their heads. Alex winces. "Don't you dare finish that fucking sentence. I'm _right here_ , are you aware of that? Or are you too wrapped up in your little bubble of freakish flirting that both of you seem to get off on so much even though no normal person would _ever_ consider it romantic? I might have given my permission for this sad excuse of a relationship to exist, but I reserve the right to revoke it at any time, and you're on thin fucking ice right now, because this is absolutely disgusting—"

"Okay, okay, we get it," Alex interrupts, yelling back over his shoulder. He flits his eyes to Henry, who's looking down at his lap, grinning. 

"If you think I want to hear about this nonsense, you are _sorely_ mistaken," June continues, her voice becoming higher and higher pitched. "And you would do well to remember that I gave you each other's company, and I can just as easily take it away!"

"I think she's still bitter that she lost the bet," Alex stage whispers to Henry, who snorts, then tries to cover it with a cough.

 _"Et tu_ , Windsor?" June shrieks. "Kids these days don't show a _modicum_ of respect—"

June keeps ranting, but Alex is suddenly distracted by Henry's thumb, stroking along his palm and over his wrist. He glances at Henry again, who's gazing back at him with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile on his lips. Henry lifts their joined hands to his mouth to press a soft kiss to Alex's knuckles, and a slow rush of heat curls through his gut. 

_So this is what it's supposed to feel like,_ Alex thinks dizzily, trying to stay focused on the road.

Later, when June's napping in the backseat, Alex squeezes Henry's hand, still warm and steady in his.

"Hey," he murmurs. Henry looks over at him. "The sunlight looks good on you, too."

Henry's resulting smile is stupidly big and blindingly beautiful. "My boyfriend, the romantic," he says, his voice like honey, and Alex's heart swells in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I confess I just wanted them to be officially boyfriends. Thank you so so much for reading my loves :) <333333333333

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are amazing! I'm on [tumblr](https://omgcmere.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/cmere) :D <3


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